


Aquamarine

by brevitas



Series: Ashes to Ashes [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Dragon AU, Fantasy AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-10
Updated: 2013-03-10
Packaged: 2017-12-04 21:29:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/715292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brevitas/pseuds/brevitas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where there once lived dragons a fiery revolutionary dreams of when they might return and a cynical drunk calls him out during a speech.</p><p>Or in which Grantaire is one of the last of his kind and drinks to forget the past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aquamarine

"Many, many years ago, there were dragons.

"They were leviathans, great noble creatures that wore scales the color of gemstones and scrutinized with eyes that were too human to ignore. Some were so big that their skulls alone could rival the size of a modest house yet others were small and nimble, no bigger than the skinny dogs the noble ladies were so fond of. The came in all colors and builds, some crowned with curled antlers, some studded with short horns along the line of their spines.

"No one remembers where they came from, but everybody knows when they left.

"They were never big in number but the country of Mundi was small, and there was at least one adult per city. The sprawling metal empires were well protected due to these beasts and the continent Vesper across the way, who had been threatening with war, went quiet with awe. Their technology had not yet reached wings and to them, flight was as beautiful as it was alien--mere humans simply did not dream of the skies.

"But shortly after their arrival the dragons declared to the government that they wished for riders and the people flocked to the capital; farmers, fishermen, dockworkers, all wished to be chosen to be a rider. The first ceremony was led by the oldest of their numbers and the biggest of them all, such a massive black brute that he had to coil his body outside and speak through an open window. His voice was a tenor so low some people would later swear they could hear it quaking in their bones.

"'Mika,' he boomed, 'Looks for a rider.'

"The people clamored as a red male stepped forward, flaring his wings as though in challenge. There was a curve to his mouth that looked uncannily like a smirk. He scanned the crowd and chose a young woman in the front--with just a nod of his head her whole life had changed.

"This ceremony occurred every ten years afterward, when new dragons arrived and the old ones disappeared. It might have gone on for much longer, the whole of Mundi in peace, had Vesper not attacked.

"They were greedy for dragons of their own and wounded in pride that they had not been chosen by the creatures themselves; they came with cannons and muskets and the heat of anger and they started to tear Mundi apart, searching for them.

"But the dragons were clever and sentient and they took their riders and laid a trap. They lured the troops of Vesper back to their country and with their molten breaths burned each of their ships. 'You will not come to Mundi again!' They shouted at the stunned crowd. 'It is our country and we will die before it falls to you.'

"But to issue such words was taken as a challenge and within the year Mundi was aflame. The Vesperians were merciless, and each time they set another outlying village to burn they screamed, 'We will have our dragons!' Naturally, the dragons did the one thing they could--they disappeared."

Enjolras has to pause for a second and readjust his grip on the book, uses one hand to push his hair out of his eyes. He's read these passages many times before but then again it's difficult not too--since the dragons vanished eighty-seven years ago, the only new literature published on the topic is speculation at best, or going over old publications and offering insight.

This is his personal favorite, and it shows; there's notes scrawled in the margins and some of the pages are earmarked, many of the sentences underlined and circled. He's wrote a half dozen speeches off this piece alone.

He takes a deep breath and steadies his hands, resumes reading.

"The Vesperians eventually gave up on Mundi and retreated home, and since then there has been no peace between the countries, and no sight of the dragons. There are rumors that they learned to take human shape and walk amongst the commoners but the toughest critics are quoted to say that this is unlikely. I, however, profess to believing in this theory--we know next to nothing about these animals, after all, and who would we proud Mundites be if we doubted that our guardians had deserted us?"

Enjolras smiles when he sets the book down on his desk, thinks, I do not doubt. He picks up his pencil and starts to jot down ideas, wondering what aspects of the book to play on this time. It's a delicate thing, inspiring the people to believe again, especially for the fact that the Vesperians are bitter that they were ignored. But he believes that the dragons would have eventually come to Vesper, had their country been stronger and their governing dictator thrown. Mundi's democracy and free higher education looked like paradise in comparison.

But Enjolras is nothing if stubborn and he knows that if him and his friends could only force people to understand that _change_ would bring the dragons back that he'd be proven right. He chews the end of his pencil as he thinks and begins to pen a masterpiece.

+++++

The squatting city of Halophanta had grown like a tumor on the southern coast of Vesper; it had begun with the potential to be lovely but its youth had been lost long ago and now it is covered in grafitti and crawling with thieves. All of its government is corrupted and anybody can be bought with the right amount of gold and it is for all these reasons that Grantaire so loves it.

He can disappear here when he needs to, can be chased down a blocked alleyway and still vanish. Residents are always happy to open their door for a stranger if he's waving money around and Grantaire has no shortage of that; he is a master at gambling, had learned how to cheat every game there was. He never wins enough that people suspect but he is right for the stealing; his restless fingers and perpetual drunkeness lead many strangers to believe that he is stupid, and if they doubt his winnings they simply blame it on luck.

Grantaire is spending the night on the roof of an apartment complex, his legs dangling over the side with a bottle of rum pressed between his knees. Below him the streetlights are just beginning to flicker on and the sun is sinking on the horizon, leaving smears of color in her wake. He's studying the hues when he hears a commotion on the street and leans over, squinting down at a group of young men coming around the corner.

They're passing out what look to be pamphlets and talking to the people who stop but from up here Grantaire can't properly hear them, just the murmur of their voices. He takes a drink and puts it out of his head, might have passed them by completely had he not heard a loud chanting of, "Speak, speak, speak, speak!"

He looks down again and curiosity gets the better of him; rather than stay up here and get drunker he heads to the fire escape and climbs down, suprisingly nimble considering the amount of alcohol he already has in his system.

By the time he's hit the street a speech has been launched and a magnetic blonde youth is pacing in front of the acculumated speakers, animatedly talking about-- dragons. Grantaire cocks an eyebrow and wanders closer, feeling a bit uncomfortably like a moth drawn to a flickering candle.

"The dragons would have come here too if we had only been as liberated as Mundi is," he's saying, waving his hands around while he talks. A few of the men at his flanks are obviously those that have been among his ranks for a while; they're more focused on scanning the crowd than they are on watching him, checking for blades, he's sure, or guns. Halophanta is not a safe place to be screeching about dragons in, which, if found, could be plausibly sold for millions.

"They have abandoned Mundi but if we could only throw off this dictactorship than they would return here and give to us what they gave to the Mundites; power, and respectability, and freedom." The people are watching him like they've never quite seen anything as glorious and Grantaire is inclined to believe, cynic as he may be.

But that doesn't mean he's content to remain silent, and he slides the corked bottle under his arm when he shouts, "And why would the dragons come _here_?"

The man shields his eyes from the glare of the overheard lamps and looks Grantaire in the eye, smiles a bit when he asks, "Why wouldn't they? Do you mean to tell me that you believe the dragons wouldn't come here at all?"

Grantaire frowns and thinks about what it's like to dive off the top of a tower and take flight, the precision that comes with angling a wing just a few degrees and turning on a dime--and then he thinks about the war, and the humans, and their cruel penchant for slavery.

"No," he says loudly. "I don't think they'd come here unless they had nowhere else to go."

He frowns at that and sets one hand at his hip, asks, "What has made you so cynical, sir? The dragons will return one day, and they will come to Vesper. The Mundites did them no favors, letting them get torn to pieces by our forces and standing idly by, expecting the dragons to protect them and offering nothing in return. Vesper is not so aloof. We would give anything to share our land with dragons, and we would never ask them to defend _us_."

The people are looking back and forth between them and Grantaire realizes how many are watching him, how many people could be memorizing his looks. He scratches at a forearm and takes a few steps back, retreating under the boy's unbridled passion. He reminds Grantaire of someone he longs to forget, and he tugs the cork out of his bottle and drinks through his teeth.

"You," he says when he swallows, holding the rum loosely between his fingers, "Are wrong. Hum--" Fuck, he's too sober for this, not lost enough in the drink. The past floats behind his eyelids like phantoms. " _Vesperians_ would like to think that the dragons would be their comrades but there is one thing we share with the Mundites; we like to control things. The history books leave out that the dragons rebelled, do they not? I don't believe they make any remark towards the way the traitors were put down."

His back is on fire, the familiar itching starting between his shoulder blades, and he takes another drink in the silence allowed him by the youth, who is staring like he's been told his God is false ( _He is_ , Grantaire thinks darkly, _Or he's crueler than we imagined_ ).

"Where did you hear about that?" The man asks and Grantaire shakes his head, turns around and heads for the yawning mouth of an unlighted alley. Behind him there's some scrambling and then the man's voice, closer this time, asking desperately, "Where did you _hear_ that?"

Grantaire whirls around and sticks a finger into his chest, growling, "You speak of things you don't understand." But the man doesn't look offended, just immensely thirsty for a knowledge he aches for, and Grantaire's anger slackens. "It's an unpopular book," he mutters, searching his pockets for a pen until he discovers one. "Here. Find it and read it and do not come back praying for dragons until you do."

He scrawls an author and title on the back of the blonde's hand, who stands there patiently watching him do it, and frowns at his command. "I have something for you too," he says, pulling out one of those pamphlets and holding it out to Grantaire. "You should consider coming."

Across the top it declares a group called Les Amis and underneath it an address and time; Grantaire barely glances at it before cramming it into his back pocket, much to the blonde's annoyance. He turns to leave without another word and the revolutionary harurmphs as he returns to his friends, one calling to him, "Who was that, Enjolras?"

He looks irritated at being reminded that he didn't ask, and shouts at Grantaire, "Stop!" For a reason far beyond him, Grantaire halts like an obedient dog, and takes a swig of alcohol as he waits for the blonde to catch up.

"I didn't get your name," he says, holds out a hand. "I'm Enjolras."

Grantaire's old name burns in his throat with the booze and for a moment he is tempted to give it; but he'd adapted to fit in the humans many years ago and he won't jeopardize the relative safety now just for a pretty blonde.

"Grantaire," he replies, and shakes his hand.

"You should come to our meeting, Grantaire," he repeats when he takes his hand back, folding his arms across his chest. "I'll have the book read by then--perhaps we could discuss it."

Grantaire has been living right under the radar for decades, has never gotten involved with a human past a brief affair and has certainly avoided any relation to people searching for dragons. For years he has been careful and he has never been caught, but he dismisses all of that when he grins and replies, "Well if I have _that_ to look forward to then I will have to be there."

Enjolras allows a smile and nods, goes back to the milling crowd while Grantaire retires to his rooftop and his rum.

**Author's Note:**

> AHAHA so many notes on this one because it's an entire world I am so sorry buckle your seatbelts  
> btw like all the names are Latin and mean something so please enjoy
> 
> okay first off I really need to make a map but until then all you really need to know is that there's only two continents (Vesper and Mundi) and then like an ice cap (Vestigo) and that this story takes place in Halophanta, Vesper, a large urban town on the southern coast (which means it's frequently quite hot/humid).  
> technology is right around America in the 1910's? like electricity is fairly common but not really so in houses and this applies to weapon tech too
> 
> that should cover the basics (I think?) but all ya'll are welcome to hit me up if something is confusing, and I'll try to get around to making a map sometime soon-ish
> 
> themed titles in this series, I'm going with gemstones that come in a blue variety, thus aquamarine is kind of self-explanatory  
> so yes I was going to do the same deal as with the other ones but unfortunately I love this AU too much to give it up even if nobody likes it /shot/  
> but that doesn't mean I wouldn't appreciate kudos or comments to let me know if anybody does because I really hope you guys do!
> 
> tumblr is idfaciendumest if you want to follow/talk
> 
> and that should be about it? kisses to all of you I love each and every person who stops by and reads this <333


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